


He Shouldn't Have Interfered

by WorldsUnreal



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman: The Animated Series, Superman: The Animated Series, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Clark is clueless, Creepy Relationships, Falling In Love, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Made For Each Other, Nothing happens between Clark and Dick, POV Outsider, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1812718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorldsUnreal/pseuds/WorldsUnreal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Clark found out about Bruce and Dick.<br/>Or rather, how Clark mistook their completely appropriate feelings for something else and then it turns out he had been right all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clark the Journalist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start reading, it might be useful to know that Clark does not know Bruce Wayne is Batman. :)

Clark was a simple man. He was raised as a farm boy and never wanted anything more than a secure, happy life. But Clark’s biology was anything but simple, and it inevitably pulled him into a very extraordinary lifestyle. He moved to the big city and made some very… unusual acquaintances. But even then, Clark was a simple farm boy and he wanted nothing more than the safety of the people he protected.

In the beginning, city life was strange to him and city folk even more so. But among all the cities in the world, Gotham was the loudest, brightest and most bewildering city he’s ever known. So it was no surprise that Gotham’s richest citizen was just as disconcerting.

Bruce Wayne was not a simple man, and Clark did not like the perverted smiles he flashed to no less than _all_ the women he met. Even Lois.

His job as a journalist at the Daily Planet wasn’t always a walk in the park, but despite all the ridiculous things Perry White asked him to do, visiting Gotham was the worst of them. He had it up till here with Bruce Wayne’s newest girlfriends or newest cars or newest scandal. Just how many reports could a man write about Bruce Wayne in a single lifetime? So when Mr. White called Clark to his office and told him to go to Gotham _again_ , Clark sighed.

“Don’t give me that look, Clark. ‘Tis the biggest news of the month. Hell, probably the year even. We haven’t got anything on Supes for two months, so this is all we got for now.”

“What exactly is it, Mr. White?”

“Well, apparently, pretty-boy Wayne decided he wanted a kid out of the blue.”

“Ex- _excuse_ me?”

“He just announced that he took in a ten-year-old orphan boy. I’m vague on the details, but that’s _your_ job. So take Jimmy with you and get out there.”

And now Jimmy and him were face to face with the most eligible bachelor (who was, if Clark was being completely honest, indeed very handsome), and a small wide-eyed boy who hid behind the billionaire’s legs.

“Uhm. First of all, thank you for agreeing to this interview. The Planet appreciates it.”

“You’re welcome,” The billionaire glanced at the name Clark had scribbled on his notepad, “Clark.”

“So, Mr. Wayne,” Clark cleared his throat, “could you recount the events that lead to your new guardianship.”

“Hmm. I believe you already know the first part from the reports, Clark.” Bruce paused to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder. It was almost… protective. “Dick deserves to have a new home, and I have one.”

“So you took him in?”

“Yes.” Bruce’s smile was charming, every bit the playboy that he was. And suddenly, the hand Wayne still had on the boy’s shoulder quickly became very… inappropriate. Clark swallowed.

“Could you tell us a little bit about Richard’s-”

“Dick.” A small voice piped up. Dick was peering up at Clark with the brightest eyes he had ever seen. “Call me Dick, Mr. Clark.”  Then the boy smiled. And it was so earnest and so sweet Clark forgot they were in Gotham of all cities. The smiles in Gotham were not supposed to be like that.

“Oh, okay. Hello Dick.”

Jimmy fired up his camera and snapped a couple of shots at Dick’s face. The boy gasped and moved closer to Bruce, startled by the sudden flashes.

“If you would be so kind, Mr. Olsen,” Wayne’s voice was suddenly much deeper than it was before and there was a… look, in his eyes that sent shivers even down Clark’s spine, “to refrain from doing that.”  

“Oh- er… Sorry.”

“Anyway, Mr. Wayne, could you tell us something about Dick?”

“What do you want to know?”

“For starters, what is his full name?”

“Richard John Grayson.”

“And, uh, how old is he exactly?”

“Ten.”

Clark wrote it down in his pad, because despite the reports and all the accounts, the boy barely even looked eight. Or maybe that was just because he was standing right next to Bruce Wayne.

“Before Dick moved to Gotham, where did he reside?”

“He lived with an international travelling circus. They moved from country to country every month or so. The last country they went to was Bruges.”

Clark didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help overhear the way Dick’s heartbeat sped up. He guessed that everything must be very difficult for the boy. He had just lost his parents and was forced to leave behind the only life he ever knew. He was scared and vulnerable. And hard as it may be to believe, Bruce Wayne was the only one he had at the moment.

Then Clark noticed how Wayne’s fingers moved to stroke the boy’s neck.

Maybe Clark should … investigate.

* * *

 

“Geez, Clark, that guy seriously gives me the creeps.”

“Bruce Wayne? What about him?”

Clark and Jimmy were in a hotel now. First thing the next day, they would leave this god-forsaken city and return to Metropolis, but for the moment they were still stuck in Gotham. Worst part was, they were stuck in a hotel owned by Wayne Enterprises. Bruce Wayne had been ‘kind’ enough to offer them a free-of-charge stay in a five star hotel. Mr. White wasn’t one to refuse.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about his- the look in his eyes. It just chills me. And the _kid_ , Clark. He’s _so_ tiny!”

“I guess it’s just a Gotham thing.”

“Guess so.” Jimmy scratched the back of his neck idly.

“I’m going to bed, wouldn’t want to oversleep tomorrow, our flight is at seven.”

“Right. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Good night.”

Jimmy made to leave, but then changed his mind and turned back around.

“Wait, Clark?”

“Yeah?”

“How did he know my name?”

Clark shrugged and walked off to his room, leaving Jimmy alone with his thoughts.

* * *

 

Wayne lived in a mansion. A huge, freaking mansion. It was quiet, even with his superhearing. All he could hear was the wind in the trees and the screeching of a hundred bats. Superman strained to hear the beating of hearts.

He heard a single heart thumping slowly from one wing of the Manor. Male, Clark guessed, and elderly. Not Bruce then, or the boy. Clark focused on the other side of the building, and heard the rhythmic beating of two more hearts. One was obviously much smaller and its beats came quicker, the other’s beats were deep and controlled. Clark didn’t know Bruce Wayne was such an athlete.

Clark moved closer, and it occurred to him that there wasn’t very much distance between the two beating hearts. Actually, they were practically side by side. Huh?

He flew over to the room where Bruce Wayne and the boy should be.

Spying was something Clark avoided. He would never usually abuse his powers to violate people’s privacy, but this was different. Supervision would easily do the trick.

But what he saw almost made him gasp out loud. Wayne and ten-year-old Dick were in a bed. Together. _Oh lord._ Wayne had- he had his arms wrapped around the boy. Around his narrow shoulders and his small waist. They were _so close_ to each other.

And- and was that sobs he heard? Was little Dick crying?

Clark had to do something. He had to do something _this second_. He was Superman, he had to safe the boy. He had to-

Then he heard somebody speaking.

“Bruce-” It was Dick.

“Bruce, I’m sorry.” He said between sobs, “I just- I just _miss_ them.”

Clark stared in horrified shock.

“I know, Dick. I know.” And Bruce’s voice was… _different._ He had never heard such softness and kindness in Bruce Wayne’s voice.

“Does it ever stop hurting, Bruce?” Dick whispered, so softly Clark almost doubted Bruce heard.

“Oh Dick, I wish I could say yes. But I promise that I’ll be here when you need me.” Wayne moved his hand and carefully (so, so carefully) wiped the tears from Dick’s face. “I’ll always be here.”

And _wow. That_ wasn’t Bruce Wayne, except that it was.

Clark left. Confused and more than a little guilty. It appeared that he had judged too quickly. Maybe Bruce Wayne wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

Weird. Something nagged at the back of his mind, something odd, but at the moment he felt guilty enough that he quickly forgot about it.

He made his way back to the hotel room that Bruce Wayne had paid for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Reviews would be greatly appreciated!


	2. Clark and the Flying Robin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark meets Robin for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who had left kudos, comments and bookmarked! :)  
> Enjoy the chapter!

The Justice League had just returned to the Watchtower. Mere moments ago, they were in Gotham to stop a sabotaged nuclear plant from melting down. It was right in the centre of the city (although why anyone would ever build a nuclear plant in the middle of a city was beyond him) and much to the team’s dismay, a _crowd_ had formed to watch them. If anything went wrong, those people would have _fried_ instantly. The G.C.P.D was as useful as a sack of potatoes and the leaguers didn’t have the time to evacuate anyone.

But despite that, they managed to handle it without a single person getting hurt. Clark had considered it a job well done. But, of course, Batman begged to differ. Correction. Batman _never_ begged. He just… differed.

“Team meeting, now.”

“What is it, Batman?” Diana wasn’t one to be kept in the dark.

“You’ll see.” And the Bat was gone with a swirl of his black cape.

“Superman,” The team was gathered in the conference hall. Clark looked up at the mention of his name- or moniker, whatever- it was hard to think about anything when Batman was looking straight at him with those blank lenses of his, “when you contained the meltdown in Gotham, there were a lot of bystanders.  You were successful and there was no stray radiation or shrapnel, but your efforts still managed to raise panic.”

Batman paused to eye Clark.

“The hysteria quickly spread while the team was too occupied to control the rioting crowd.”

Batman pressed a button and a projection popped up, “Due to the chaos, at least ten civilians have been hospitalized and there have been reports of robberies and multiple fires across the city.”

John quickly stood up, “Then why are we sitting here talking about it? We must do something.”

“Sit down.” John stared at Batman in disbelief, but obeyed. “It’s been taken care of. The last fires have just been put out and the panic has been subdued.”

“But how?” It was the Flash, “It’s only been about twenty minutes since Supes cooled down the plant, and I know I’m fast but even I’m not _that_ fast.”

Batman ignored him, “My point being, our current approach is---”

The Flash had a point. There had barely been any time to react. Clark knew Batman was… well, the _Batman_ , but still. Batman had been with the League the entire time and they had returned to the Watchtower as soon as they secured the meltdown. Clark seriously doubted the police or fire department could have reacted that quickly. It was… impressive, for lack of a better word.

Even for Batman.

* * *

 

 

Despite his distaste for the city, Clark found himself in Gotham again. He thought it wasn’t a bad idea to check if everything was alright.

Only that there _wasn’t_ anything ‘not alright’ left.

Batman really meant it when he said that it’s been taken care of.

Even with superhearing, the city was as quiet as Gotham could possibly be. Sirens in the distance, but that was no concern, wind, police intercom, club music and-

“Wow! Are you really Superman?”

“Huh?” Clark spun around, “What?” But there was nobody there. With a jolt, he realized he was hovering at least ten stories above the ground.

“Who said that?” And how didn’t he pick anything up with his superhearing?

“Me!” And a smiling face popped in front of him.

“Gah!”

“Oh, sorry. Did I scare you?”

Clark backed up and for the first time saw that it was, in fact, a boy hanging upside down from some sort of cord. And he was wearing… whatever _that_ was.  Wait. A _boy_ was _hanging_ from a cord _ten stories_ above the ground?!

“What do you think you’re doing?” Clark quickly moved to get a hold on the child before he started plummeting towards his doom. Then the boy, he- _flew_ out of Clark’s reach and landed on a roof.

“You can fly?”

The boy started laughing.

“No, silly.” And he smiled at Clark, “But I can do all sorts of other cool stuff! Would you like to-”

“Please don’t.” He held out his hands to stop him from jumping off the edge. To his eternal relief, the boy stilled and crouched.

“It really _is_ you, isn’t it? Superman!”

Clark cleared his throat, because what _in the world_ was this kid thinking? Where were his parents?

“ _What_ are you doing?”

“Hmm? Oh, I just put out the fires.” The boy beamed at him. “Did a pretty good job, don’t you think?”

“ _You_ put out the fires? Who-” He was wearing some kind of mask to cover his eyes, and Clark was about to peek through them when the boy suddenly jumped up.

“I just remembered that you have that X-ray vision thing! Please don’t peek! B- Uh… Just don’t.”

“Alright, but you better tell me what’s going on here.”

“Oh right, sorry.” The boy crouched down again and Clark hovered over to the small figure in the ridiculously colored outfit. “I’m Robin. Nice to meet you.”

“So, Robin. Mind telling me what you are doing ten stories above the ground?”

“I was going to meet Batman.” Robin said so matter-of-factly and with such nonchalance, Clark thought he must have heard wrong. But he had superhearing, he _never_ heard wrong.

“Meet Batman? _The_ Batman? _Where_?”

“Right over….”

“Here.” And _that_ was undoubtedly _the_ Batman’s voice.

“Batman! What- Who-”

“I told you, I’m Robin.” The boy flew- no- he _jumped_ to Batman’s side.

“Why are you in Gotham again?”

“I was checking up if everything was alright, then I suddenly saw- uh.. Robin hanging at least a hundred feet above the ground.”

Batman was glaring at him with those ghastly white eyes, and despite his super strength and his super everything, he felt his nerves jitter.

“Don’t you have your own city to worry about?”

“Yes, but- but- _Robin_? I mean, is he alright?”

“Robin is with me. He’s fine.”

“ _With_ you?”

“Yep!” Robin grinned at Clark then at Batman, who completely ignored him, then back at Clark.

“Oh- Uhm. Okay then, I… guess I’ll be going. Nice meeting you. Robin.”

“See you around-” Robin flashed him a cheeky smile but Clark was already flying back to Metropolis faster than the speed of sound. He would be home in less than a minute. His safe, normal home in Metropolis without children somersaulting from rooftop to rooftop. But then he heard the end of Robin’s sentence.

“-Clark.”

He halted. So abruptly he nearly went spinning out of control with the momentum. The next thing he heard was a fit of giggles, quickly followed by a growl that sounded suspiciously like ‘let’s go home’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you think about it! What did you think of the Justice League? And of Batman? And Robin?


	3. Clark in Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After meeting Robin, Clark is left wondering.

“Say, Lois,”

“What’s up, Smallville?”

“Would it be weird if, you know, I… decided to teach a kid to fight crime?”

Lois blinked at him a couple of times, then burst into laughter.

“ _You_? Fight crime? That wouldn’t only be weird, but it will also be the craziest thing I would ever see in my life. And we both know we’ve seen some _crazy_ things out there.” Lois patted his shoulder, Clark cleared his throat to disguise the slight blush that threatened to creep up his cheeks.

“That’s not really what I meant, Lois. I mean- uh- would it be… correct?” Lois frowned at him, “Would it be… _morally_ correct?”

"Clark, what has gotten into you?”

“I was just thinking about a… movie. Yes, a movie I saw.” He adjusted his glasses.

“Well, a _kid_ fighting crime,huh?” Lois cocked her hip to one side, “Can’t say it’s the most conventional thing to do. The guy must be pretty batty to even think about it.”

“Batty.” Clark adjusted his glasses again, “Hmm. Okay.”

“I guess it wouldn’t exactly be the _best_ thing to do. It’s a _kid_ and crime fighting can get nasty, remember?”

“Yes. Yes it can.”

“It probably comes down to traumatizing the child, more than just getting him hurt or killed or anything like that.”

“How so?”

Lois looked at him curiously, “Well, just think about the kind of people this kid will deal with. Rapists, murderers, psychopaths, _pedophiles_? How would a child react to _that_?”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Really.” Lois raised a sleek eyebrow, “ _What_ movie was that?”

“Oh. It’s nothing. A really old one I found in the attic of my house.” Lois eyed him some more, “In Kansas.” He added quickly.

Lois laughed again, “That figures. Gotta run, Smallville, I have some papers to turn in.”

“Alright, Lois. Good luck.”

Lois left, and Clark went back to the article he was working on.

Mr. White had asked him to cover the Gotham power plant incident from the previous night. It’s almost horrifying, really. It’s as if Mr. White _knew._ Clark almost always had to cover news that had Superman in it. Or maybe it’s just because Clark somehow always managed to have the best info about anything Superman-related.

Huh.

‘LAST NIGHT, THE POLICE FORCE AND FIRE DEPARTMENT WERE QUICK TO ACT AGAINST THE RISING HYSTERIA IN THE CITY. ACCORDING TO G.C.P.D. COMMISIONER JIM GORDON, IT COULD NOT HAVE TAKEN AUTHORITIES MORE THAN HALF AN HOUR TO CONTROL THE SITUATION. COMMENTARY AND RUMORS ABOUT ASSISTANCE FROM _THE BATMAN_ HAVE BEEN DISPUTED BY MAYOR HILL.’

Clark sighed.

_Robin is with me._

How old _was_ Robin even?

Sure, he trusted Batman, but Robin barely even looked eight. Or maybe that was just because he was standing right next to Batman.

Wait. What?

Clark thought he just had the weirdest déjà vu ever.

* * *

 

“Team, I have an announcement to make.” Once again they were gathered in the conference hall, “So please be seated.”

Clark sat down and watched the other leaguers take their seats, warily looking at Batman who stood as a black shadow in the centre. It was little over a week after he had met Robin bouncing around on Gotham’s rooftops.

“As some of you may already be aware,” Batman started, “I have decided to take on a protégé.”

There was a collective ripple of confusion.

“He goes by the name of Robin, and he will mainly operate in Gotham.” Batman pressed a button and an image of Robin was displayed before the team. He was in costume and masked, standing about four feet four above the ground and almost sinfully delicate. 

“A protégé?” It was the Flash, “You mean like me and Kid Flash?”

“Yes. He will be my responsibility and I will see to his training.”

“But Kid Flash is blessed with the gift of speed and endurance,” Diana spoke up, “and he does not partake in any form of vigilantism.”

“What’s your point?”

“I am trying to say what you are doing could potentially bring harm to the child. Not only physically.”

“I said that he is my responsibility, do you doubt my word, Diana?”

There was silence for a heartbeat, tense and loaded, “No.”

“Then that is settled.”

But Clark still wanted to know so much more about this sprightly, multi-colored young boy (and whatever sort of sorcery had gotten into Batman to take him as a protégé). But wait, hadn’t there just been a Blackgate prison breakout? Superman should definitely come and visit Gotham to lend a helpful hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter. :) I'll upload the next chapter really soon, probably by the end of next week. In the meantime, enjoy the story and tell me what you think of it so far! :D   
> P.s. Thanks for all the bookmarks and kudos! You guys are the best!


	4. Clark Isn't Spying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark went to Gotham to help out with a prison outbreak

When Clark saw Robin again, it was like the first time ma and pa took him into the city to watch the circus. All the colors and the lights and _magic_. He was starstruck and slack-jawed.

Robin was amazing.

A slight swivel of his hips and some inexplicable trick with his leg, and a thug’s shotgun went flying through the air. And before Clark even fully processed that there was a giant of a man with a mean-looking stick rampaging toward the boy, Robin was suddenly already above him, with his delicate, little, green-gloved hands on his massive shoulders and his pixie-booted feet in the air. Then Robin defied all the physics behind the conservation of momentum (or at least, what little Clark remembered from his years in school) by flipping his legs backwards and causing the 200 pound man to lose his balance and slam head-first into the gravel underneath.

Robin landed on his feet so lightly it was hard to believe he really _couldn’t_ fly. And it was even harder to believe he didn’t have super-speed or the magical ability to allow bullets to pass through his body without causing him any harm. Three times Clark could have _sworn_ a bullet’s trajectory would pierce straight through his skull. But it didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

Apparently, Superman’s help had never been needed here. His idea of an excuse to check on them was quickly becoming more and more silly. What was he thinking? He _never_ came to Gotham to help Batman out before. Maybe except that one time, in the very beginning when he first heard about the black-clad vigilante, which also became the last when it became quite clear to his younger, more naïve self that he wasn’t quite as welcome in Gotham. Then what was he expecting this time? Although Robin seemed quite nice and-

“So, that was the last of them.” Robin was suddenly beside him. Really. He was _suddenly_ beside Clark.

“Yes it was.” And suddenly Batman was beside him too. In fact, he was suddenly _right_ beside him. This was not his night.

“What brought you to Gotham, Superman?” Robin grinned at him.

“Oh, I…” He cleared his throat, “just decided to drop by.”

Robin seemed curious and opened his mouth to say something, but he glanced at Batman and thought better of it. Instead, he reached out and touched Clark’s red, billowing cape.

“What’s it feel like to fly? Were you always able to?”

“No, when I was younger I couldn’t fly. It only came to me when I was about eighteen.”

“How was it like? For the first time?”

“Confusing and… not very pleasant, actually.”

“What? Really? Why not?”

“He used to be afraid of heights.” Batman answered, “The only reason why he ever did attempt to fly was by pure accident when he fell from the top of his barn.”

It was true. It was not a secret, but he could not recall ever telling Batman or any of the leaguers about this.

“How do you-”

“Really?” Robin smiled, easy and happy and not at all unkind. “I always wanted to fly,” He said to Batman.

“Yes I know.”

“Can I fly the batwing today? I remember everything you told me.”

“I know you do, but not today. It’s getting late.”

Robin looked mildly disappointed, “Can we fly it tomorrow then? For practice?”

“We’ll see.”

The little smile on Robin’s lips spoke of some delight beyond of just getting what he wanted. Clark didn’t understand it, but apparently Batman did.

“Come.”

“Okay. Bye Superman, see ya’ around.”

And Clark watched them disappear into the shadows.

* * *

 

A couple of days later, Clark was passing through Gotham. It was the shortest way there was. Really. He didn’t come to spy on Batman or Robin or anything. Really, he didn’t. He would never overstay his welcome in Batman’s city. And he certainly wasn’t flying slower than usual because he was _listening._ No, that would be absurd.

Besides, it was quiet tonight. He couldn’t find Batman and Robin even if he tried (which he wasn’t doing). So when he heard a familiar voice that he heard often enough on T.V., radio, interviews and basically everything that could be called ‘publicity’, Clark couldn’t say he was disappointed.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Dick.”

“I can help, Bruce.”

“No. You’re staying here.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

And for a second, Clark thought Bruce Wayne sounded awfully like somebody else.

“Bruce, don’t leave!”

Clark heard the sound of footsteps on rock that echoed from all directions, as if somebody was running through a tunnel. Then there was an array of very confusing noises, followed by a heavy thud.

“Ow.” It was the boy. He had been hurt. And when Clark strained, he could hear the sickening sound of blood oozing out of tender tissue.

Did Wayne _hit_ the boy? Did he hurt him? Clark quickly felt dread rise in him again. He was about to do something. He didn’t exactly have a plan, but he had to-

“Dick,” And Clark never quite heard such raw emotions in a single syllable.

A small groan, “It’s a cut from… you know. It’s nothing. It’s just a healing scar.”

Wait, what? Scars? Cuts?

“Strip.”

Clark focused and heard the sound of fabric sliding _off_ skin, quickly followed by the whisper of skin against skin. Then a _slick,_ wet sound.

He heard the boy whimper slightly. More slickness.

“Don’t do that again, Dick.”

At this point, Clark’s head was spinning with _what in the world was going on_? He no longer cared that he promised not to spy on Bruce Wayne again, this was just too weird.

He used his supervision to see past the Manor’s walls and quickly found the place where the voices were coming from. They were in some sort of huge basement, and Bruce Wayne was-

 _What the hell._ (He didn’t care that ma would probably chastise him for cursing.)

Bruce Wayne was wearing Batman’s suit, and Batman’s gauntlets and Batman’s car was inexplicably beside him. It was _clearly_ Bruce Wayne. He had his cowl pulled back, so Clark didn’t even have to peek to see that it was _Bruce Wayne_.

“My suit is designed to electrocute any unwanted advances, Dick.” Wayne-in-a-Batman-costume drenched a cotton ball in a liquid that appeared to be alcohol. “So _don’t_ try jumping on my back again.”

“But as Robin?”

“The Robin costume has an infused chip that my suit recognizes. It won’t happen when you’re wearing it, but that doesn’t mean you should be trying to do it again.”

“Oh.”

 _What_? Robin costume? Electrocution?

Wayne pressed the cotton ball into the bloody stitches. The boy winced and Wayne’s whole body seemed to tense for a split second.

“I’m okay, Bruce. Really.”

“You’re not. Your stitches were reopened when the jolt pushed you into the cave wall. The wound has to be closed again.”

“M’ Sorry, Bruce.”

Then it hit Clark like a smack in the face. Stitches. Scars. Suits. Bruce Wayne was-

_Good lord in heaven almighty._

And he might have just said that out loud. Really loudly. Because Bruce Wayne- no- _Batman_ (it really _was_ him) turned around to look at something and stalked off. But Clark reassured himself that he couldn’t possibly have heard him. Bruce Wayne- _Batman_ didn’t have superhearing and there was no way-

“What. Are. You. Doing?”

To his credit, Clark didn’t scream like a little girl.

“Batman! I mean, Mr. Way- Uh! _Batman_ ,” Clark swallowed once, then again, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spy. I just thought I’d… heard something.”

“What did you hear, _Clark Kent_?”

Clark felt pointedly horrified, “Y- you knew?”

Of course he did.

“I asked you a question.”

“I heard somebody uh… fall down.” That was a lie. They both knew it. “Really, Batman, I didn’t mean to-“

“Quiet.” And God, was he pissed, “What do you think you’re doing in Gotham?”

“I was uh- passing through.”

“Leave.” Clark flinched. If he ever thought Batman’s white lenses were terrifying, then he was dead wrong. The burning hostility in Bruce Wayne’s icy blue eyes was so much worse.

“Alright, I’m going. I’m really sorr-”

“Just. Go.”

Clark flew away as fast as he could. _That_ was one thing he would never want to go through again. Ever.


	5. Clark's Normal Day

Clark was in Metropolis. Safe, comforting, _normal_ , Metropolis. He was in his small, box-shaped office doing normal, tedious paperwork as a normal, everyday journalist. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Nothing at all.

“Hey Smallville.”

“Oh, hi Lois.”

“Care to grab a bagel downstairs? You look like you can do with a break,” Lois glanced at the piles of papers on his desk, “How long have you been stuck with those?”

“I’ve actually just started, but I can do with a break.”

“Come on then, I’m just dying for some coffee and a good old cream-cheese bagel.”

So now Clark was sitting in a normal, familiar cafeteria eating a normal, ordinary bagel while having a normal, pleasant conversation with Lois. Nothing about this was in any way Gotham-like. Gotham was _miles_ away and he was just mild-mannered Clark Kent, a journalist from the Daily Planet having a bagel with Lois Lane.

Everything was _normal_.

“So, Smallvile, anything going on?”

"Huh?”

“You know, a date maybe? Long-lost brother? Or maybe, Godzilla attacking Tokyo?”

“Um- No, I’m afraid nothing exciting has happened to me,” He lied, rather tactlessly if he were to be honest with himself, “but I heard Jimmy almost got a clear shot of Superman last night, if that interests you.”

Lois laughed, “That’s Clark Kent for you, people. You can always rely on him for your daily dose of normal.”

Clark would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy trying not to choke on the irony.

“That reminds me,” Lois poured a spectacular amount of sugar into her coffee, “can you _believe_ the Joker escaped from Arkham again? It’s crazy. After the Blackgate breakout, you would think Gotham can _at least_ catch itself a _break_. It’s not even been a day, and now this clown is terrorizing the city already.”

“The Joker?” Clark frowned, that was odd, he was in Gotham last night, “That’s- Well, that’s terrible. When did this happen?”

“Middle of the night. The news got at least half of GCPD out of their beds.”

Middle of the night!?

“Oh. I see.”

It was very likely he was too… distracted to have noticed it.

“Is anyone from the planet covering this?”

“Mr. White had sent Cassandra to Gotham this morning. She should be there by now.”

“Cassandra? But she’s only joined the Planet for three months. Are you sure-”

“Nah, she’s a fighter. She’ll be fine. Besides, there’s that _Batman_ everyone’s been talking about. I heard rumors that he’s not entirely human. They say he might also have superhuman powers like _Superman_. At least, sort of.”

“Well, I… don’t think he’s anything like Superman, Lois.”

“Hmm,” Lois drained the last bit of coffee in her cup, “I’m going to get some more coffee. Want anything?”

“Oh, no no. I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Be back in a sec.”

Clark listened to Lois’ heels make their clickety-clack noises as she walked to the dispenser. Gotham. What a city. Why would anybody _ever_ decide to live there? He’s had enough of that place for ten years, even without madmen parading around the city planting bombs everywhere.

Bruce Wayne. Batman.

 _Oh Lord_. That was one thing he _really_ didn’t need to know. He suddenly really, really missed his home in Smallville.

He was thinking about his ma and his dog back home when he heard a bewildered, punctuated: “You are!?” from somewhere in the distance.

It was Lois. Clark half-listened as Lois continued to talk excitedly to someone in the distance, he was still thinking about the Kansas skies and ma’s apple pies.

“And he never told me! I will not let him get away that easily for not even _mentioning_ he has such an _adorable_ nephew.”

Clark’s train of thought turned to idle wondering whether Bruce Wayne had any nephews. He probably didn’t, it just didn’t sit right with common sense. Batman even less, just the thought of him having any sort of life beyond the mask wa-

“Clark Kent!” Lois was standing beside him, her slender hands on her hips, “Why haven’t you told me you have the cutest little nephew?”

“Wuh- What?”

“Really, Smallville, if I had a nephew as adorable as yours I would _never_ shut up about him.”

“Lois, I- I don’t have-”

He was promptly cut off by a weight forcefully crashing into him. If Clark had been anyone else, he would have been flung over backward.

“Uncle Clark! I’ve missed you!” A tiny voice cried out with the purest Midwestern accent Clark had only ever heard at home, “So is this Ms. Lois you’ve always been talking about?”

“What? Oh. Y-yes, I suppose. But-”

Clark shut himself up when he realized that this boy- his ‘nephew’ was almost painfully familiar. Clark was certain he must have heard that voice _somewhere_ very recently, although the accent just didn’t _fit._ His _nephew_? Did he call home yesterday or any time this week? Some distant family reunion?

“He’s an _absolute_ cutie, Clark,” Lois said, smiling indulgently at the boy, “just look at those chubby little cheeks. You must spoil him rotten.”

Clark just gaped at the boy, and the boy happily stared back. Such _blue_ eyes. He’s seen those eyes before. He _knew_ this boy.

“Are you-”

“Hey,” the boy whispered, although Clark did not think he saw his lips move. He was _sure_ his lips didn’t move, he was just mere inches away from his face, Clark should see these things, “it’s _me_.”

That whisper would have been much too soft for any regular person to hear, even if they were as close as Lois was. And did the boy just _lose_ his accent? “What-”

Oh.

_Oh_

**_Oh_** …..!!

“Rob-!”

He was stopped by a sharp pinch to his arm. It didn’t hurt him, but its intention was clear and Clark promptly shut his mouth.

“I’ve grown a bit, but you do remember, right? It’s me, Johnny _._ ”

It was Robin. Dick Grayson. The orphan-boy Bruce Wayne took in.

The goddamn _Batman’s_ partner. 

“O- of course! I remember you, J- Johnny” Clark couldn’t quite help the stutter, “But- but what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you! It’s been _ages_ since you came home to Smallville. I thought we could go and look around Metropolis, I’ve never been to such a big city before.”

“Aw,” Lois chimed in, “you go and take him Clark, I’ll take care of things here for you.”

“But, Mr. White-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make something up.” She smiled at Dick again and ruffled his tousles, “Isn’t that right, sweetie. You go have fun with your uncle Clark.”

Dick smiled and squeezed Lois in a hug, mumbling, “Thank you, Ms. Lois,” and not a moment afterward he was pulling Clark by his sleeve and out of the building.

“Then let’s get going, Uncle Clark!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of you who have subscribed, bookmarked or gave this fic kudos: Thank you very very much! :)  
> I would love to hear any ideas and suggestions, and I'll try to reply your comments as soon as I could!  
> Thx again for reading!


	6. Clark and Dick in Metropolis

“Rob-” Clark caught himself, “ _Dick,_ what is it?”

“Nothing,” Dick grinned at him, “I just wanted to get away from Alfred for a while.”

Clark had a minute to excessively fret about who this Alfred person was before his conscience decided to remind him that _he_ was supposed to be the responsible adult here. Superman got his fair share of runaway children, and under normal circumstances he would promptly find their parents and return them.

But this was different. Should he notify Batman? He had the League commlink if he needed to. But was it really even possible for Batman to _lose_ his Robin? Clark swallowed nervously. What if Batman had in fact _sent_ Robin to _silence_ Clark for what he had found out? Clark had to admit that it wasn't such a far-fetched suspicion, in fact, it was very likely.

Or, of course, Dick had _really_ run away from home. But if that were true Clark could all too quickly be mistaken for _kidnapping_ Bruce Wayne’s ward instead.

“Does your uh- Does Mr. Wayne know?”

“Bruce?” Dick looked at him with wide, happy eyes.

“Yes.”

“Well, I didn't exactly tell Bruce…” Clark couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach, “but he probably won’t mind.” Dick smiled as if he hadn't a care in the world.

“A- are you sure this is a good idea?” Clark tried.

“Why shouldn't it be?” Dick asked, holding up one finger to his bottom lip and looking quite concerned. Dick then gasped slightly and pulled Clark down to whisper in his ear, “Do you have to be anywhere else? You know, as _Superman_?”

“No.” Clark unconsciously adjusted his glasses to hide his face better, “Fortunately, I don’t.”

“Aw…” Dick pouted slightly, “So why wouldn't it be a good idea then?”

“You see Dick, I am an uh… an unrelated adult and officially I’m not even supposed to know you.”

“But we met during that interview. You do remember, right?” Dick beamed at him, “I also read the article you wrote about us the next day, it was my favorite among all of the others!”

“You think so?” Clark asked, genuinely flattered. He’d put in a lot of effort to treat both Bruce Wayne and his new ward like actual human beings. (Mainly because he’d felt terrible enough for spying on them the previous night.)

“Yeah! I understood everything you wrote, the other articles had many confusing things in them that I don't understand.” Dick frowned slightly.

“Oh? What did you not understand?” Clark offered helpfully, because it was in his nature to be helpful and he always did have a soft spot for children.

“You’ll help me?” Dick bounced slightly, “Alfred wouldn't let me ask my teachers at school. And when I asked Bruce what they meant, he would get a… _strange_ look in his eyes and tell me to forget it.”

Clark realized too late just what kind of articles Bruce Wayne was always in: very inappropriate ones.

“I will…” Clark swallowed the lump in his throat, “try.”

“Okay. What does ‘boytoy’ mean? Lots of the papers called me a ‘boytoy’.”

“That’s an uh- an umm-”

“And jailbait! What does that mean?”

“Ummm- That means. That- that means-”

“How about pedophile? They mentioned Bruce was one. Is that some kind of business title?”

“It- uh- uhhhhh.”

"Oh yeah, and _cunt._ One of them said Bruce wanted my-”

“It means nothing!” Clark stopped him before it could get any worse, “They’re just uh- ways to call-” Clark blushed furiously, “Just never repeat or even think about any of those words again.”

“Why? Are they bad?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Oh,” Dick’s eyes widened, “Now that you mention it, I think I heard some Blackgate prisoners call me those things.”

“That is... very likely.”  

“But then, why would the newspapers call me them too?” Dick looked more curious than actually hurt, but Clark still felt exceedingly guilty. He was just ten, and so… _un-Gotham-like._ Clark made a mental note to check those papers out himself, the c-word may be going just a little too far.

“Anyway I thought you wanted to see the city?” Clark decided distraction was probably the best idea, “Is there any place in particular you wanted to see?”

“Mmhh-hmm!” Dick beamed, “Can I see your house?”

* * *

 

So at least Clark’s paranoia for having an angry Batman on his heels was not true. As far as Clark could tell (and he could tell quite a lot), Bruce Wayne wasn't anywhere in the vicinity of Metropolis and Dick didn't have a communicator with him. In fact, Dick almost didn't have _anything_ with him. What little Clark did ‘discover’ in Dick’s pockets was quite worrying. Dick only had with him a very expensive phone that rested on a bed of gummy worms, a V.I.P credit card (but no wallet), and a wilting clover leaf.

Actually, it was more than just worrying.

“Dick? How did you get here?”

Dick was looking around at his apartment in inexplicable wonder.

“What do you mean? You brought me here.” Dick was poking at his brown couch curiously, “Do you sit here often?”

“Huh? Oh, I do. But how did you come to _Metropolis_?”

“Ooh, I took a plane.” Dick was now examining his TV set.

“A _plane_? By yourself?”

“Mmhh-hmm.” Dick was more interested in the buttons on Clark’s DVD player, “Do you watch TV while sitting on that couch or while sitting at the table?”

“I- uh- I… sit on my couch. But Dick- how did you…”

He trailed off as Dick disappeared into his bedroom and went out of earshot.

Clark was becoming increasingly worried, not just because if something should happen to Dick Clark would be as good as dead, but because Clark was a simple man and things like this just naturally made him wary. When Clark was ten himself, his ma wouldn’t even let him go to the nearest town to buy gumdrops. _‘Sweetie, what if you’d get mugged? Or kidnapped? Or worse? Don’t worry your ma so much, Clark. If you’ll be a good boy, your pa’ll take you downtown tomorrow’_

In retrospect, ma didn’t have anything to worry about. Clark would sooner have accidentally broken every bone in his kidnapper’s body than actually been kidnapped.

“Clark!” Dick called from inside the bedroom, “Clark! Clark! What’s _that_?” Dick was pointing excitedly at the shard of kryptonite Clark had first used to find the Fortress of Solitude. It was sitting on his nightstand like a constant reminder that his childhood had more or less been a lie. He’d brought it with him to Metropolis just in case he needed it for… something.

“That’s- uh. You can say it’s the key to the-”

“Fortress of Solitude?” Dick finished, eyes widening in wonder.

“You know about the Fortress?”

“I do! What’s it like?”

“It’s… quite unnerving, actually.” Clark sat down on the edge of his bed, and to his surprise Dick suddenly hopped onto his lap.

Clark didn't mind Dick’s weight, he actually wouldn't even mind if Dick suddenly weighed a thousand pounds, but he _was_ alarmed at the ease Dick trusted strangers. It was… odd, especially if Clark correctly recounted their first meeting on the interview. Dick had not exactly been _timid_ , but there was a… restraint that-

But of course! It must’ve been the shock of everything that had happened; during the interview, Bruce Wayne had _just_ taken Dick in. How could Clark have forgotten? And yet… the smile plastered on Dick’s face now was almost _bleak_ compared to how Clark remembered it…

“I- I suppose the Fortress is very impressive,” Clark repositioned his glasses that had fallen out of place, although it was pointless since Dick knew who he was, “but I just never quite gotten used to how… _alien_ it is.”

“But _you’re_ basically an alien.”

Clark winced a little. That was also one of the things he’d never quite gotten used to. Dick apparently saw Clark’s unease because he piped in:

“Don’t worry, Clark,” And Dick smiled at him as if he hadn't just said it himself that he was sitting on a true-born alien’s lap, “I think it’s _really_ cool.”

“T- thank you.”

“And your father? Do you really see him in the Fortress?”

“Uh- Not exactly. I see a… _recording_ of my father he’d made for me.”

“Oh... That makes a lot of sense now. And what about your moth-” Dick was cut off by ringing from his pocket.

“Oh-uh.” Dick muttered and pried his phone from the gummy worms that stuck to it, “Yes, Alfred?”

 So _this_ was the Alfred Dick had been talking about. An Englishman? He seemed much less ominous than Clark had originally thought.

Clark found himself eavesdropping once more. In his defense, Dick was no more than five inches from his face and it was difficult even for a regular person not to hear what was being said. So Clark wasn't exactly _abusing_ his powers.

“Master Dick, I wish to inform you that Master Bruce will be returning home early this evening.”

Dick’s entire being seemed to brighten at just the mention of Bruce’s name. And this time, Clark was sure there was nothing bleak about the smile on Dick’s face.

“Really? Will Bruce have dinner at home too, Alfred?”

“I cannot speak for him, Young Master. But as always, I will do my utmost to encourage Master Bruce to have his meals at regular times, or at all.”

"That’s a no, isn't it?”

“I wish I could contradict you, Young Master, but I’m afraid I share your fears.”

There was a brief moment of such _hurt_ in Dick’s eyes that Clark was hurting with him.

“In any case, I believe your plane is ready and waiting for you. I will prepare some of your favorite biscuits along with hot chocolate for when you arrive back home.”

“Thanks Alfred. I’ll see you soon.”

“Have a pleasant trip, Young Master.” Dick pushed his overpriced phone back into his gummy-filled pocket with a squishy noise.  

Dick was quiet for a minute or two, and Clark just stared stupidly back.

“Clark?” Dick suddenly said.

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you a question?” There was something in the intentness of Dick’s gaze that would've betrayed Dick’s veneer of ignorant cheerfulness if Clark had been anything else but a simple farm boy at heart.               

“Of course.”

“Can you promise to forget I asked afterward?”

“Uhm. I- I’ll _try._ But I promise not to mention it.”

“Okay,” Dick nodded, and if Clark had been at all more observant, he would've noticed that Dick was fidgeting his fingers, “Are you on a mission, Clark?”

“A _mission_? Do you mean a _League_ mission?”

“Yeah.”

“I am, but- but what-?”

“Can you tell me about it?”

“I’m afraid it’s highly classified, I’m sorry.” Clark felt bad for denying Dick such a simple request, but League business was serious, “But I can tell you about other missions I had before, some of them are very excit-”

Dick ignored him, “Can you at least tell me who’s on the mission?”

Clark hesitated, but Dick’s piercing blue eyes threw him off balance.

“Uh- yes. I suppose that’s alright,” He gave in, “Wonder Woman is commander, and Black Canary, The Flash, Hawkman, and myself make up the rest of the team.”

“What about Batman?”

“Batman? Uh. He’s not part of this mission.”

“Is he on any other mission with you?”

“No. No he’s not.”

“Is he on _any_ mission?”

“Not that I know of, I don’t have full access to all ongoing missions. Beside Batman, only the Martian Manhunter has that kind of authority in the Justice League.”

“Oh.” Dick was quiet again, then he hopped off of Clark’s lap, “I've got to get going, if Alfred says he’s going to make cookies, that means he wants me to hurry before they get cold. It’s already been 2 minutes and 47 seconds.” Dick was grinning again, and _something_ about it made Clark uneasy.

“Uhm- Okay. Do you want me to take you? It might be safer-”

Dick laughed, “What do you mean? Nothing will happen to me in Bruce’s plane.”

“Bruce’s plane-? _Oh._ I see.” And of course Bruce Wayne had to have his own private jet. Well, at least he didn't have to worry about Bruce Wayne’s ward getting kidnapped for a billion dollar ransom.

“Thanks!” Dick mumbled and startled Clark by squeezing him in a hug.

“You’re… welcome?”

“Thanks for taking me around today.” Dick released him, “I had a great time.”

“I actually only took you to my apartment.”

“It was still really exciting,”

Clark suppressed his habit to say something utterly stupid when he was embarrassed. He knew his apartment was hardly any form of entertainment compared to what Bruce Wayne could afford.

“Uh- Glad you liked it.”

“Bye Clark.”

And Dick was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Another chapter! :)  
> To all those of you who have been loyally following this fic despite my slow updates (sorry), thank you very much! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I hope you enjoyed it. As always, any kind of feedback is very welcome!


	7. Clark and the Wayne Articles

“Hey Lois,” Clark was on the phone from his apartment, “Are you still at the Planet?”

Lois hummed, “Mr. White just put me on another assignment. After I manage to find what I’m looking for, I think I’ll call it a day.” Clark heard Lois sigh from the other end, “ _If_ I find it. By the by, is Johnny still with you?”

“Johnny? Uh… No he- his father came to pick him up a couple of minutes ago.” He lied.

“He’s _such_ a sweetheart. Clark, you have to tell me _all_ about it. Are you on your way back to the Planet?”

“Yes! Yes, I actually called to let you know I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay. See ya’, Smallville.”

“See you too, Lois.” Clark hurried out of his apartment, but as he stepped out of the door, he thought he might have heard something _click_ from inside his living room.

* * *

 

Clark had finally finished the heaps of paperwork Mr. White assigned to him that morning, when he heard Lois’ heels rapidly tapping against the polished floor as she bustled around the office.

“Smallville,” Lois called out as she rummaged through archives, “Would you mind lending me a hand? This is driving me _insane_.”

“Of course. What are you looking for?”

“Remember Wayne and the kid?”

“Bruce Wayne?” Clark was internally screaming _no not Wayne again,_ but said, “What about him? Is he part of the assignment Mr. White put you on?”

“You guessed it. The boss asked me to do a follow up on the whole adoption thing since it’s been 6 months since it happened. But-”

“But?”

“Ah! Here it is!” Lois beamed to herself, but it quickly turned into a frown, “Nope. God, why is it always so _difficult_ to find anything around here.”

“What are you looking for?” Clark asked again.

“All the articles about Wayne! The last thing I want to do is piss Mr. White off by writing something _another_ paper has already done.”

“Don’t you think it might be easier to look them up on our online archives? You could try the keywords ‘Wayne’ and ‘adoption’. ”

“Yes,” Lois sighed and shook her head, “I know. It’ll take _forever_ to read through all the articles manually. But apparently there’s some _bug_ in the archive servers, or something, I don’t know. I can’t find a _single_ one of those articles. Not _one_.”

“Huh?”

“Believe me when I say I looked. I spent twenty minutes just typing in all the keywords I could think of. But still, _nothing_.” Lois made a gesture with her hands, “Oh, except yours.”

Clark blinked a couple of times, “Mine?”

“Your article. There isn’t a single article on it except the one you wrote.”

“Oh. Well yes, that is… strange.”

“It _is._ There should be tons of them, it was _hot news_. I’ve already filed a report to the server admins, or whatever you call them.”

“I… could call the papers and request them to send the articles over. Or maybe ask for verification that what you’re doing will not be considered a form of plagiarism.”

“That would be _great._ Thanks Smallville, I owe you one.”

* * *

 

Clark slowly put the phone down, his mind racing. He had called every other newspaper available in Smallville, and coincidentally _all_ of their archives were having problems at just _one_ particular area: the Wayne articles. There was something going on here that was decidedly strange _and_ thorough.

It took Clark longer than he would’ve been proud of to come to the notion that this might actually have been Wayne’s own doing.

“Clark? Did you find those articles yet?”

“Uhm, you see, Lois. They seem to be having server breakdowns too.” Clark tried his best to act as if it was all just a funny coincidence and _nothing_ more. Lois had always been much too sharp for her own good, the last thing Clark wanted was to become even more involved with Wayne. “But they did verify that you’d be the first to do a follow up, and that they would have nothing to claim plagiarism for.”

“First to do a follow up, huh?” Lois cocked her hip to one side, “That’s unlikely. I’m sure _someone_ must’ve thought of doing it before, it’s been six months _and_ we’re talking about _Bruce Wayne_!”

“Uhm- It’s a little bit strange, but maybe there were more… _interesting_ things to cover these last few months.”

“Yeah? Like what?”                                

“Well, like- like the Joker! The Joker had broken out of Arkham didn’t he?”

“Hmph. _My_ guess is Wayne is hiding something and _paid_ all of these papers to shut up. Well, I’d like to see him try to shut _me_ up.”

And Lois stormed away.

Bruce Wayne could easily have paid all the papers out. It would’ve been a small effort on his part, but still… Wayne had never, ever tried to avoid publicity. Not even when he was caught in that international scandal with the Russian Minister’s _married_ daughter. The publicity then had caused Wayne Enterprises a major setback, but Bruce Wayne never even _tried_ to hide anything. (Not even the nude photographs that inevitably leaked out)

Clark blushed, and tried to hide it behind the thick rim of his glasses.

Somewhere within the depths of his gut instinct Clark knew that there was probably something more to this, but for the moment Clark decided Lois was right, as she almost always was.

Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about young Dick Grayson accidentally coming across any more highly inappropriate material. Clark supposed that was good enough. 


	8. Clark Back in His Apartment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To avoid any kind of confusion, this happens the next day after Dick came to visit Clark. :) Enjoy

Clark’s communicator buzzed in his ear, “Superman, come in.”

“Superman here. Is there a problem Wonder Woman?”

“Have you stabilized the bridge?”

“Yes. I think it’ll hold,” Clark had tons worth of concrete and metal supported on his shoulders, it creaked slightly as he shifted to get more comfortable. “I’ve managed to get everybody away before the earthquake became anything serious.”

“Well done. When you are done, report to me immediately, we need to discuss the mission. Something’s come up.”

“Understood. I’ll finish up as fast as I can.”

“I’ll be waiting. Wonder Woman out.”

* * *

 

Clark checked around him once more before he entered his apartment, it was best to be absolutely certain that nobody was watching. Clark was determined to make sure there would be no repeats of that one time somebody actually did see Superman go into Clark Kent’s apartment. He had had to stage an impromptu (and honestly ridiculous) scenario where Superman was saving Clark Kent from drowning in his bathtub _without_ them noticing Superman and Clark Kent were never visible at the same time. 

Lois had endlessly made fun of him about it after she found out. Well, Clark supposed, at least that meant his farce _was_ convincing.

After swiftly changing back into his civilian clothing, he collapsed into his couch. It had been a long, long day. He had just finished discussing the mission with Wonder Woman, and despite his super endurance and super stamina, Clark felt _exhausted_ (which did not really make sense, if Clark thought about it).

Oh well, some TV would go a long way.

“And for tomorrow’s weather, we seem to have pleasantly a lot of sun for a November. So grab your kids, folks, because tomorrow is the perfect day for-”

_Click._

Huh?

_Click._

What was that??

Clark straightened up and scanned his apartment. It was very soft, so soft Clark wouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for his superhearing.

_Tick._

And did it just come from a _different_ direction this time? Clark muted the television and listened again.

_Tick._

It came from somewhere inside his bedroom, which was odd because there was nothing else there beside his bed, a nightstand, a tiny closet he kept his clothes in and, of course, the hidden compartment where he stored his Superman-related things. But it could _not_ have come from the Superman-compartment, it was hidden and sealed and it was _impossible_ for anything foreign to get inside. It was infused with technology from the _Fortress_ , so only Clark could have access to-

_Tick._

And that definitely came from _inside_ the hidden compartment that Clark, and _only Clark_ could ever open. This was bad. This was very bad.

Clark hurriedly opened it.

His suit was displayed as he’d left it, while scattered at the bottom were the various items the League had given him, and behind the mess, was the small metal container that housed a sample of green kryptonite.

The first thing he checked was the kryptonite. It wouldn’t surprise him to find a time-bomb there that would explode and scatter kryptonite _everywhere._ Lex Luthor’s name ominously crept into his mind as he placed his ear over the container. It was silent-

_Tick._

No, it came from somewhere else. It came from the pile of Justice League issued badges and gizmos. He rummaged through it until-

_Tick._

_Communicator._ It was his communicator. His _communicator_ was ticking. Clark wanted to breathe a sigh of relief that it wasn’t a kryptonite time-bomb, but the ticking _was_ worrying.

He scanned the little device, and found that there was something inside of it that wasn’t there before. It was _tiny_.

_Click._

What? It now came from another direction, the place he’d first heard the noises coming from. After more searching, Clark found that the clicking came from his couch.

This was just getting stranger and stranger.

With his supervision Clark found another miniscule metallic object. It was embedded at the head of his couch, an inch or so inside the surface so as not to be seen immediately, but not deep enough to…

The realization came to Clark slowly, along with a cold feeling of dread. It was not deep enough to obstruct any _sounds._ And the one in his communicator was obviously-

Oh darn, Clark had been _bugged._ Someone had wanted to listen into Clark’s League conversations. Wonder Woman had just told him some highly confidential details about their mission and they surely must’ve heard _every_ word of it.

Clark scrutinized the two small objects, but quite pathetically failed to discover anything due to the simple fact that he couldn’t _comprehend_ the sophistication of the things.

Should he alert the League? Clark had seen bugs before, but never like _these._ The ones he was holding in his hands were of a wholly different caliber than what day-to-day criminals used, this was _government secret service_ technology.

If Clark alerted the League, they could analyze the bugs at the Watchtower’s lab. But it may already be too late, what if-

He needed to _calm down_ and think about this.

How did the bug even come to be in his couch? Somebody must’ve broken into his apartment to plant it there, and if he could just find a trail…

But even the combined powers of his supervision and heightened sense of smell could not detect anything out of the ordinary. Even the best spies would leave _some_ kind of trace behind.

He sniffed again. The only foreign smells he could find were that of the scents that clung to his clothes, the mailman’s and… well, Dick’s.

 _Wait._ Clark froze. _Dick Grayson_.

Dick _had_ been to his apartment just the day before. And he _had_ been poking around at his couch. And more importantly, Batman was the only person Clark knew who had access to technology with _that_ level of sophistication.

So _Dick_ -!

That explained all too perfectly why Dick came all the way to Metropolis just to see Clark Kent’s apartment. But for what? Did _Batman_ bug Clark to-

Clark froze as the question answered itself.

-To make sure he kept his mouth shut about _Bruce Wayne._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the wonderful people who gave kudos, bookmarked and commented! Your love is what really keeps me motivated to give my best to this story!   
> If you have any suggestion, questions, comments or even critique feel ABSOLUTELY free to tell me. (I won't bite, I promise) I'll answer you as soon as I could :3


	9. Clark the Strategist

Clark had already wasted a full hour idly staring at the bugs. He was never born to be any sort of strategist so _what_ he was trying to achieve, he had not even the slightest clue.

Since the day Batman and Superman met, Clark had never fully understood the man’s morality and motives. But hey, Clark didn’t understand many things and for the longest time Clark had somehow assumed Batman was a… _good_ man, with just an odd way of showing it. But now that Clark knew he was _Bruce Wayne_ , it wasn’t that simple anymore.

Clark had his own good reasons for keeping his identity secret, and a large part of it was to avoid the inevitable attention that came with being a flying man clad in bright red and blue. But Batman was a different story altogether. Batman was downright _obsessed_ with secrecy.

The very fact that Batman was so vehemently protecting his identity was (at least to Clark) glaring evidence that he was hiding something. A guilty conscience?Although maybe _guilty_ wasn’t exactly something Wayne would be feeling.  

Why wouldn’t he just announce that he’s Bruce Wayne? It would save him all the time and effort he now spent dodging the GCPD. And knowing how much Wayne _loves_ the cameras, the publicity would be reward enough.

So why? Why was Batman a secret? But more importantly, Clark realized suddenly, why did Batman _exist_? If Wayne was doing it out of a sense of justice or righteousness, he could accomplish _so much more_ with just a _fraction_ of the money he owned.

But what if- what if Batman was a _cover_? A cover from the law _and_ from the League. What if Batman’s vigilantism was just a cover for all the laws Wayne was _manipulating_ to get what he wanted.  Laws like… like having- no _owning_ little defenseless boys for himself.

_Oh no._

Clark had to find a way to _stop_ Bruce Wayne, or at least tell people he was a _sick_ and dangerous, _dangerous_ man. No, wait. He needed to talk to Dick first. Dick was innocent in this and Clark knew just enough about Stockholm syndrome to know that doing anything hasty would just bring Dick more misery. He was just a _child_ in the hands of _Bruce Wayne_.

Clark accidentally crushed the metal bugs he was holding into fine particles of splinter.  Darn it. That could’ve been evidence against Wayne.

But _how_ could he reach Dick _?_ And _when?_ Coming anywhere near Batman or the Manor or Gotham would just be plain stupid. As far as Clark could tell, Batman did not know Clark had found out about the bugs yet, so that was at least one thing in his favor. But how could he possibly find Dick without Wayne knowing it? He could always go to child protective services immediately, but knowing how Bruce Wayne-

Clark was distracted from his thoughts by the furious ringing of his phone.

“H- hello?” It was already past one in the morning. Usually when anybody called Clark Kent at such an hour it could only mean trouble.

“Clark!?” It was Lois, she was out of breath and _pissed_ , “Clark _Kent_! Where have you been? Haven’t you heard!?”

“What is it Lois? Did something happen? Is there trouble?”

“Yes! Really, Clark, how could you _not_ know? Everybody has been asking where the Planet’s star reporter has gone.”

Clark gathered his scattered thoughts, “What happened?”

“The Joker! He’s setting Gotham on _fire!_ And Jimmy even says he’d just caught sight of the Batman. Can you believe it? The _Batman_. And there I was thinking he didn’t even exist. Every paper in this country is covering it and only the Planet is behind.”

Clark could be in Gotham in less than two seconds, but …

“When did this happen?”

“The news reached us 20 minutes ago. Jimmy and Cassandra are already there and they’re reporting some truly _crazy_ things. There’s a plane to Gotham -”

“What- what kinds of crazy things?”

“What kinds of crazy things?” He could clearly hear Lois’ exasperation, “Clark, you better get your corn-fed bum there before the show’s over.”

“I will. As soon as I can. But I- I need to know the situation.”

“Really, Clark? Fine, hang on I’m getting a life feed from Cassandra,” A beat passed, “Every television in Gotham had been taken over by the Joker. He’s shouting out all kinds of insane threats and- What? Are you _serious_?”

“What? What is it?”

“This is the first time _anybody_ has _ever_ seen the Batman in full view. All the spotlights are trained on _him_. Oh my God, it’s- It’s- What? He’s what? Hanging? He’s hanging from the edge of the building. They think he’s wounded, but nobody could clearly- Oh wait- he’s doing what? He’s trying to protect somebody.”

Clark swallowed, “Is there anybody else?”

“Anybody else? What do you mean?”

“Is there _another_ person in a costume?”

“Are you talking about Superman?”

“No. I mean, _any_ body else in a costume? Fighting the Joker?”

“Hold on.”

Clark waited in tense silence.

“Cassandra reports: negative.”

“Okay Lois, thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I could.” Clark hung up and concentrated on not making his hands shake. He hadn’t been this nervous in a long time.

He was painfully aware that there must at least be several things morally wrong with what he was about to do. If ma ever found out, she wouldn’t be all too pleased. But Batman was fighting the Joker and Robin _wasn’t there._

It was his only chance in perhaps for _ever._

Clark hesitated a minute longer, before he made his mind up and rushed to Gotham in a red and blue blur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally another chapter update! I'm so sorry that it took me soooo very long. But it's up and I plan to get back to updating regularly again. So to all of you who have been following this story, thank you so very much!


	10. Clark in the Manor

Clark was hovering outside Wayne Manor, trying his best to ignore the wailing sirens in the distance. He was _definitely_ going to do something about the Joker, but he had to do _this_ first.  

He peered into a set of large windows. Even without supervision he could make out an immense bed lying in the centre of an equally ridiculous large room. Clark could hear the persistent beating of a small heart accompanied by the measured breathing of sleep.  

By now Clark knew how heavily secured the Manor was, considering how he was caught the last time (much to his embarrassment), so breaking in certainly wasn’t a good idea. Waking Dick up was probably the best course of action, and it shouldn’t be too hard, he was sleeping just a foot away from the windows.

“Dick,” Clark whispered and tapped on the window, using his supervision to see through the thick wall, “Dick, wake up.”

The boy opened his eyes only all too quickly.

“Bruce?” Dick’s voice wavered slightly, then his eyes lit up with such uncontained _joy_ Clark felt his blood run cold, “Is that you?”

“No,” Clark had never felt so bad about disappointing anybody in his life, “It’s… Superman.”

“Oh,” Clark looked away to spare himself from the unhappiness he _knew_ he would see in Dick’s eyes, “What’re you doing here, Superman?”

“I need to talk to you, can I come in?”

“Of course,” Dick padded barefooted to the window and opened it for him, “Why didn’t you come through the front door?”

Clark realized that he did not know how to answer, much less begin this entire conversation.

“I… need to talk you.” And the reluctance in his voice must’ve given away the gravity of Clark’s intent. Dick immediately tensed.

“What’s wrong, Clark?”

“Uh… you see. It’s about your-” Clark cleared his throat, “About Bruce-”

Dick’s eyes widened and Clark could just _hear_ the hammering of his little heart against his chest.

“No…” Dick breathed in silent horror, “You- you didn’t come to tell me-”

“Dick, let me finish.” Clark said as reassuringly as he could, but Dick was slowly inching away from him, breath coming out raggedly.

“Bruce?” Tears were beginning to sparkle in the corners of Dick’s eyes, “Where’s Bruce?”

 “You- you don’t know?” How could Dick not have known Batman was fighting the Joker in Gotham? The whole country knew it. But the answering desperation in Dick’s eyes told Clark that he did not, “I thought you knew he was-”

 “Dead?” Dick’s voice was little more than a whisper.

  _What?_

“Is he dead?” Tears had started to slowly trickle down Dick’s cheeks, which had gone deadly pale.

Clark wanted to tell Dick that _no, Bruce is not dead at all,_ but Dick looked so deeply traumatized that the words just never came out. The silence stretched out between them, until Dick’s hand flew to his face and tears began to soak through his fingers.

“Is Bruce dead, Clark?” he asked again in between silent sobs.

“N-no!” Clark finally managed to blurt out, “No, no, no.” He crouched down and gently removed the delicate hand from wet eyes. “No Dick, Bruce is fine. He’s- he’s alive! Bruce is alive, Dick.”

Relief washed over Dick’s features _,_ “He’s not dead?” Dick squeaked, “Where is he then? Is he hurt? Is he- is he-” Dick stopped as he caught his breath, and _something_ pained and heartbroken settled within the depths of those blue eyes.

“Clark? Where is Bruce?”

“He’s- he’s _out._ Out in the city fighting the Joker. You don’t know? I thought you’d be the first to know.”

“I… don’t.”

“Well, uh- It should be on TV,” Clark quickly said, “Every channel should be reporting it life now.”

There was a flat screen covering nearly an entire wall of Dick’s room. Dick had already turned it on and was rapidly zapping through all the news channels.

“Reporting today is a minor earthquake in-” _Zap_.

 “-what have you got on that newest actress-“ _Zap_.

“-an increase in the price of-”

“-Afghanistan-”

“-thunderstorm-”

“-prime minister-”

Clark blinked at the screen, there was absolutely _nothing._ Not even on the Gotham News channel. Dick had turned to look at Clark, his eyes were shining in the suspended darkness, and Clark couldn’t help but see the ghost of Batman’s glare in them.

“Where is he, Clark?”

Clark did not understand it either, but Lois- Of course! Lois!

“Ho- hold on, Dick,” Clark pulled out his civilian cell phone and dialed Lois’ number.

“Clark! Where. Are. You?”

The Planet could wait.  

“I- I’ll be late-”

“What!?”

“Just. Just hold on, Lois. I have to ask you something.”

“What? What is it?”

“Are there any news channels covering it life now?”

“What are you talking about, Smallville? Of course there are! _Every_ channel is covering it.”

“Every channel is covering it?” Clark’s blood froze, and beside him he could see unnatural stillness of Dick’s figure.

“Yes! And every other channel has been _taken over_ by the Joker himself. Clark, you’d better-”

“Thanks Lois,” Lois was still saying something on the other end, but Clark ignored it and hung up.

“Dick, I don’t understand. I- I can always fly you to the city, but- but-” Clark frowned, “What’s going on?”

Dick was huddled on the floor now, his head in between in his knees, “He doesn’t trust me. One day he’s going to leave me and he’ll never come home again, and I won’t even know if he’s alive.”

“But how is it that the television-?”

“Bruce must have done something to the broadcast. It’s just like him to do something like that.”

“Why?” Clark asked before he could properly think about it.

“Because,” Dick paused for a beat, “he’d rather _die_ and leave me alone than have me by his side.”

“Don’t say that, it’s not true,” Clark wasn’t even sure anymore if that was a lie or not.

“You don’t understand,” And Dick was crying again, very silently, but he _was_ crying and Clark might have sworn that his heart was breaking with Dick. Clark should’ve _known_ that Bruce _Wayne_ _adopting a child_ was nothing but bad news. He should’ve done something _much_ sooner.

“You can tell me, Dick. You can tell me anything.” Clark awkwardly patted Dick’s back in an attempt to give Dick some comfort.

For the longest time, there was only silence and Dick’s pitiful sniffles.

“When- when I first I came here, almost every night,” Dick hiccupped, “Bruce would come to my room.”

Clark stilled his movements because _oh Lord he had been right all along._

“He thinks I don’t know, but I do. I could feel him next to my bed. And he would just… _stand_ there.”

“Just- _just_ standing?”

“I think so. I think he’s, I don’t know, he’s _watching,_ I think,” A pause, “But I _liked_ it. Bruce made me feel less alone. He made me feel safe. And he made me miss them a little less.”

“Them?”

“Mom and dad.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry, Dick.” Clark said, because he really was and there really wasn’t anything else to say.

“I wanted to _say_ something, ask Bruce if- I don’t know- if he cares for me, maybe. But I never did. I just pretended to sleep until I got too tired and really fell asleep. I don’t know why I didn’t. I think, maybe, it was because I’m scared.”

“Of him?”

“No. Not really. I think I was scared he would be disgusted by how weak I am. He always tells me to be strong, and I listen to him as best as I can. But- but-”

Dick stopped, unable to speak anymore because he was sobbing into the palms of his hand.

“Don’t cry, Dick.” Clark tried, “I’m sure it’s not- it’s not like that.”

Dick ignored him, “Bruce does not come anymore. He stopped talking to me, he stopped bringing me out to patrol. And I miss him. I miss Bruce. I feel so _alone_ without Bruce. So I…”

Dick suddenly grew very quiet, he just stared at the floor. Clark waited, realizing much too late that this was _way_ more than he was prepared for. And if there was ever anybody who’d do this whole thing any good, it sure wasn’t Clark.

“You found them, didn’t you?” Dick suddenly said.

“Found what?”

“The bugs.”

“Oh… Yes. I did. _Yes_. But-”

“That’s why you came here, wasn’t it?”

Clark swallowed, “Yes,” He admitted, “But it’s oka-”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

How Clark could’ve even been _slightly_ angry at Dick was beyond him.

“N- no, I’m not mad. I wasn’t angry at you _at all_. I just came to ask you if-“ It now became obvious that Clark was missing something. Something very important, “To ask you why _…_ ”

Clark held his breath, he wasn’t sure if he still wanted to know the answer to it anymore.

“For Bruce.”

 _No,_ was Clark’s immediate reaction. He didn’t understand the first thing that was going on here, but he _did_ understand that Bruce Wayne was in a way… _manipulating_ this boy into doing things for him. And to make any child so unhappy by _neglecting_ him _-_

“Dick, if he treats you at all badly…”

“Huh?”

“If Bruce treats you badly, in a _ny_ way, you could tell me and I’ll-”

“No!” Dick’s head snapped up, “That’s not true.”

“He shouldn’t make you do those kinds of things.”

“Bruce never asked me to do anything.”

This wasn’t good a sign, Dick was in denial. Clark had heard a little bit about cases of abuse.

“Like the bugs. He shouldn’t-”

“ _I_ did it. He never asked me to. I did it myself.”

_What??_

“What?”

“I did it for him. Because- because I wanted to keep him from…” Dick started trembling again, “from coming home bleeding all over the floor.”

“What? I- I don’t understand-” Clark stopped as Dick suddenly crashed unto his lap, burrowing his face into the red fabric of Superman’s cape.

“Dick, please tell me what’s going on.”

“I was worried, Clark. And I -  And I _missed_ him. I sneaked into his room late one night, so I could be, you know- _near_ him.” Dick whispered into Clark’s shoulder, “But he wasn’t there. He was just _gone._ ”

Clark did not dare speak.

“I waited for hours, and when he finally came back, it was almost morning already. And he was- he was _bleeding_. All over the place. I wanted to call Alfred so he could h- _help_ Bruce, but I didn’t because I was… scared.”

“Scared?” Clark whispered, for some reason afraid that if he was too loud _something_ in the shadows would hear him.

“Of Bruce. He had that _look_ in his eyes. It scared me. I was scared that if he found me there he’d throw me out of the Manor. But- But I did it again the next night. And the next _next_ night. And he only came home _more_ and _more_ hurt. It was dark but I could see the- the _bruises_ , and how bloody his fists were-”

Clark felt as if the walls of the Manor were closing in on them. The Manor was just so _dark,_ and _overwhelming._ No. Whole _Gotham_ was. Gotham was a dark, dark place and at its heart… at its heart was the Batman.

Dick sniffled, “When I asked if could come with him to patrol, he’d only tell me to stay home. And I _want_ to listen, but- but what if he never comes home again? I don’t even know _why- what_ he’s fighting. But then _you_ showed up that night right before he left and I thought-”

“You thought?”

“I thought you were doing something together, with the League, or something. So I came to Metropolis to find out. I’m sorry, I- I just wanted to _be_ there for Bruce. I thought maybe if _I_ could get hurt instead of Bruce, Bruce wouldn’t have to come home bleeding.”

There was something Clark did not understand, some _lapse_ in the logic of all this.

“But- _why_?” If Clark sounded like the biggest jerk that moment, he didn’t particular care, because there was a limit to selflessness in _every_ person. And for a boy to care so much for somebody who’d done nothing but _neglect_ him _…_

“Why, Dick? Why would you do that for him?”

Clark felt Dick’s hold tightening on his cape,

“Because- Because I… love him.”

And now Clark’s mind was positively blown into tiny little bits floating around in a cloud of _what just happened_.

“I loved mom and dad too, and- and they’re… _gone._ And if I don’t anything, Bruce will come home bleeding too bad one day and- and then and I’ll be alone. This time forever.”

It made no sense, nothing made sense. But Clark had a good, simple heart and his ma and pa had always told him that there _wa_ s good in the world, it just took a little looking for, but there ultimately was. So maybe all Clark had to do here was look for it. Right?

“Dick, if you want me to, I’ll fly to the city and see if Batman is alright. I’ll try to help as much as I can.”

“You’d really do that?”

“Of course. You should get some sleep.”

Dick’s lips curled into a gentle smile that was light in the creeping darkness of the Manor. “Thanks, Clark.”


	11. Clark in Gotham

“Look!”

“Is that- is that _Superman_?”

“Oh my God, what is _he_ doing in Gotham?”

Right enough, the city was in utter chaos. Clark tried to stay focused on finding Batman but it wasn’t easy when Joker’s sickening laughter echoed from _everywhere_ direction _._ Really. Clark could hear the Joker coming from _everywhere._ Lois wasn’t exaggerating, _every_ radio and phone and TV had _Joker_ on it.

_‘Baaaatsyyyyy. Where are you? You know it’s not polite to keep your guests waiting.’_

Apparently the Joker was looking for Batman too.

_‘You’re missing out Batman, the fireworks are going to start aaaanyy second now.’_

Fireworks? What fireworks? What is he-

_BANG!_

_‘Woopsie.’_

“Commissioner Gordon! There’s been an explosion on fifth junction street.”

“I know officer, I’m not _deaf_. Quit wasting time and _find_ those goddamn bombs! And tell the hostage rescue team to hurry before the madman _shoots_ anyone, damn it.”

Bombs!? Why didn’t Lois tell him sooner that the city was riddled with bombs?

“What bombs Commissioner?”

“Superman! I thought you were strictly Metropolis!”

“I came to help. What bombs are we talking about?”

“Nobody knows, that’s just the thing. Joker’s been going on about ‘light show’ and ‘fireworks’, but we’ve got nothing on what he’s planning.”

“Don’t worry, I can find them for you.”

He should hurry. There’s not much time.

“Superman! We’ll handle it, I don’t think it’s a good idea-” But by the time the words came out of the Commissioner’s mouth Clark had already found the first of them and was already removing it from where it was-

_‘Eh? What’s this?’_

“Joker!”

_‘Who’s messing with my precious little babies?’_

The Joker’s voice came from somewhere behind him. Clark spotted movement from the corner of his eye. It was a CCTV. And this probably meant that Clark was on every news channel too now.

_‘Ohhh. Well hello there! Welcome to Gotham, kind Mr. Superman, sir. Please do feel free to enjoy this beautiful city of ours.’_

“Joker! Where are the other bombs?”

The sound must’ve been one-way only, or the Joker was ignoring him, because the Joker just continued

_‘Perhaps you’d like a little welcoming gift. Please, don’t bother, consider it a personal gift of mine.’_

“What-”

BANG!

There was a violent flash of fire and heat and the next thing Clark knew, he was embedded three feet deep into the side of a building. Not far from where he was sprawled into concrete and rubble, he heard the bone-shaking crash of an entire building collapsing to the ground.

“What happened?”

“Another explosion?”

“The whole building just blew up!”

This was getting out of hand.

_‘Well folks, isn’t this just getting more and more fun? Now if only Batsy wouldn’t be such a party pooper.’_

That was a good question where _was_ Batman? What if Dick had been right and Batman was really- No. He _had_ to find him. Maybe the Joker had _already_ caught Batman, and he was _misleading_ the police.

It didn’t take long for Clark to locate the Joker, it would take less than a second for him to-

“Mmmph!”

Something was clapped across his mouth. And in temporary shock (because _nothing_ should ever surprise Clark, ever) he allowed himself to be dragged away into the shadows.

Clark wrenched away, it was dark and he needed to use supervision to see-

A pair of eyes glowed in the shadows, “ _What_ do you think you are doing?”

Clark was a full-grown man with the strength of a thousand of them but he suddenly felt like a little child again. Batman towered above him like something from the frays of a nightmare that threatened to bleed into reality.

“B- Batman.”

“Leave Gotham. Now.”

“But the Joker-”

“The Joker is _exactly_ why you are leaving.”

“But you’re just letting him blow everything up while you-”

“ _Don’t_ make me repeat myself.”

“You could use my help.”

“You are _not_ helping. In case you didn’t know, there were people inside the building _you_ just made the Joker blow up.”

Clark stared at the figure in front of him in silent horror.

“Now leave if you know what’s good for you and everyone else.”

No man could have said no to that tone and that _voice_. Clark backed away, and was already a foot into the air when he smelled-

“Blood!”

But Batman was nowhere in sight.

“Batman?”

There was nothing to suggest that Batman had been there at all except… except for a pool of warm blood where he had been standing.

* * *

 

Clark was back at his apartment now, with both his TV and radio on. He was also straining his superhearing, although it was difficult to discern any individual noises from the chaos. He hadn’t even changed out of his Superman suit in case he’d needed to rush there to-

To what? To save Batman from falling out of a building? To stop the Joker from stabbing him?

He hadn’t even been able to prevent the building from exploding. No, even worse, he had _caused_ it.

Clark was painfully aware that the right thing to do was to have stayed and helped Batman, but Clark also knew that Batman was right. Clark wasn’t and _wouldn’t_ do the situation any good.

But he _promised_ Dick-

Clark strained even harder to find any noise that could’ve come from Batman. A grunt, maybe. Clark would recognize his voice. The sound of his grapple. Batarangs. Cape. Gauntlets.

The TV was too distracting. He should turn it down so he could listen better-

“It’s amazing! Just minutes ago the GCPD found the Joker bound and gagged right in front of the gates to Arkham Asylum!”

What?

“And even better, the bombs that were hidden all around the city were found lying not far from where the police found the Joker. They have all been safely incapacitated. The police are confident that there are no more explosives left in the city, but bomb squads are still making rounds to make doubly sure that we are safe.”

Clark allowed his face to fall into his palms and sighed wearily. If his ma did not lecture him so fiercely against drinking alcohol, he would have liked a drink right about now. A really strong one.

              

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update! I'm sorry to keep you waiting for so long, but here it finally is! I've gotta thank all those of you who have faithfully followed this fic despite its irregular updates. Honestly, you guys are what keeps me motivated to write more <3


	12. Clark in the next Morning

Saturday was Clark’s day off (Sundays don’t really count because on Sundays he had to finish whatever assignment Mr. White wanted on Monday), but Clark was raised on a farm in Kansas, so he woke up at the crack of dawn even on Saturdays. His city-born coworkers never understood the merits of missing a few good hours of sleep, and neither did Clark honestly, but it was just one of those habits he couldn’t quite shake off.

Besides, it wasn’t like he _needed_ sleep, or as if he even _could_ sleep after such a night.

So Clark was already awake before the winter sun had even made it above the hazy horizon. Good thing too, because that was when he heard-

“Clark-”

In less than a second, he was already in his suit and on his way to the East coast.

* * *

 

Clark found Dick in the Manor gardens, standing in a labyrinth of ancient stone walls, dark twisting branches, and mossy statues. Clark had expected to see Dick in some state of distress (it _was_ a logical assumption considering everything), so the oversized woolen sweater and purple-striped-blue scarf came as a surprise.

“Hi,” Dick greeted him as Clark landed to stand in front of Dick. It took Clark a few moments to re-orient himself around the Manor, it seemed to look so _different_. Although nothing of the actual décor had changed, Clark thought that it was profoundly less disheartening. There was a certain… _brightness_ permeating Wayne Manor that he’d never known in any of his previous visits. It was almost even pleasant.

“Hi,” Clark finally said, although a little gingerly, not entirely sure why he was there, “can I… help you?”

“I haven’t thanked you for your help yet.”

“My help?” Clark realized that nobody probably told Dick what had _really_ happened back in the city. As much as Clark hated to betray Dick’s trust, Dick deserved to know and Clark had always been a very honest person.

“Dick, I… didn’t actually do anything. I’m sorry, I haven’t exactly helped Batman. At all. I actually made a-”

“It’s okay,” Dick cut him off, “don’t worry about it.”

“Oh?” Clark blinked in confusion, momentarily pushing the fact that Dick already seemed to know every detail of last night to the back of his mind, “Then what-?”

 “I wanted to thank you for your help comforting me last night.” Dick smiled up at him, sheepishly, but every bit heartfelt, “Thank you, Clark.” And that was so unexpected, so sincerely _kind,_ that it startled Clark, and quite out of nowhere the thought came to Clark that perhaps it was _Dick_ who was bringing this light to the Manor. It was Dick’s very _presence_.

And for the first time Clark began to understand just how _lonely_ Dick really was.

“You’re very welcome, Dick. You can call me again anytime you’d like.” Clark smiled back, and as an afterthought patted Dick’s shoulder in a manner Clark thought would be reassuring, but- Clark stopped and slowly pulled his hand back. Dick was blinking up at him as if he was… _expecting_ something- his _body language_. As if he was _waiting_ for Clark to do something else.

“Is there… something else you want to- uh- tell me?”

Dick stiffened slightly, as if he remembered something he had forgotten. “Oh- uhm. No. Not really, no.”

Clark’s previous misgivings resurfaced again.

“Did you- have you… met Bruce today?” Clark tried.

“Yes, I saw him this morning at breakfast.” A smile blossomed across Dick’s features. And now Clark just felt like he was treading on thin ice, so thin it would probably break and shatter at the slightest stumble.

“Is he alright?”

“Yes. I think so. I mean he _isn’t_ bleeding or hurt or anything like that, Alfred made sure.”

That… was not what Clark thought he’d hear. He’d seen for himself (although very briefly, and admittedly not very clearly) that Batman had been wounded, bad enough that he was bleeding out dangerous amounts of blood.

And he was quite sure it _was_ Batman’s blood. But if his butler checked and seen that there wasn’t anything serious, then Clark supposed it must be true. Why shouldn’t it be?

“Uhm- where is he now? Has he gone to work?” Clark really did not want to meet him, but at the same he probably needed to have a talk with the man.

Dick laughed, “Bruce does not go to work on Saturdays, or this early in the morning, or at all if he can help it.” Of course, Clark had completely forgotten about that, “But he did go out.”

“Where to?”

“I don’t know,” Dick admitted, “he never usually tells me those things. I wish he did though, so I could at least visit him. Oh, but he probably will not like me being around his friends that much.”

“Oh.” Clark said stupidly, because he didn’t really know anything else to say.

Then a long, silent moment followed, in which Clark just stared at Dick and the way his scarf nearly drowned his entire face. Normally, this was when Clark would pretend to hear something in the distance and make his leave. But Clark did not _want_ to, Dick would be all alone again and-

“Do you have somewhere to be, Clark? Don’t let me keep you.” Dick asked, sharp as ever.

“Uh- no. Not at the moment. I-” Dick looked like he needed some company more than ever and Clark would be all too happy to help, and there was still _that_ part of all this that deeply disturbed Clark, no matter what Dick had told him about Wayne, “I could keep you company. If you’d like that, of course.”

“Really?” Dick beamed at him as if Clark had just given him the best birthday present ever, “You’d stay with me?”

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

Dick lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Clark. “I’d _love_ that!”

* * *

 

Clark had changed into civilian clothing and was now sitting beside Dick in the Manor’s elaborate orchards and gardens. A few moments ago Clark suggested if Dick should maybe go inside and put something warmer on, but the boy had very resolutely refused to go inside. Clark gave in (maybe a little too quickly), and agreed that it was a remarkably warm day for early winter anyway.

“Clark?” Dick said, while busying his hands with making a rope of sorts out of dried stalks, “What is it like to grow up on a farm?”

“Uhm.” Clark thought about it, “Different, I guess. I’ve never known what it’s like to grow up in the city, so I can’t be too objective about it.”

“Did you have lots of friends?”

“Not really. All our neighbors lived miles away from us and school was only for a couple hours each day.”

“Oh. Weren’t you lonely?”

“No, I always had ma and pa to-” Clark stopped, realizing his blunder too late.

Dick smiled, “It’s okay, I know everybody else has parents.” That didn’t make Clark feel even remotely ‘okay’, but Dick continued talking, “You know, sometimes I don’t think I miss them enough.”

Clark didn’t really know what to make of that, so just said, “You shouldn’t feel guilty about moving on. It’s the right thing to-”

“No,” Dick interrupted him, “it isn’t just like that. I used to wish they’d never have to die and that I’d still be at Haly’s Circus with them, performing together, living in a trailer, you know all that stuff I used to do. But now I just… _don’t_ , anymore _._ ” Dick looked down at his boots, eyes flickering back and forth across the patterns on the black leather, “I miss them, Clark, so _much_. But I don’t wish they _didn’t_ die anymore. Because if they were still alive, I would never have… I just- I… I don’t know.”

Clark could do nothing else but stare at Dick, completely lost for words. Dick just sat there, completely silent and still for long moments, until he turned his head to look at the towering walls of the Manor’s East Wing behind them.

Clark felt Wayne Manor’s familiar darkness fall over the place again, gradually, more and more the longer Dick stared at the somber architecture.

“Clark,” Dick was facing him now, “do you think maybe we could go somewhere else? I… don’t really feel like staying here anymore.”

“Of course! Anywhere you’d like to Dick, if- if it can make you feel any better.”

Dick’s mouth curled into the smallest of smiles, although it looked pained.  

“Can we visit your farm? I’d love to see it.”

And Clark would not be half a human being if he said no.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shoutout to all my lovely readers for following this story and for supporting it as much as you have! I <3 you all! I'm sorry I haven't been very good at replying your comments, but I intent to improve :).


	13. Clark in Smallville

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes! I finally updated! I am so sorry for the EXTREMELY long wait, I've been really busy lately but I genuinely missed you guys and writing. So I finally managed another chapter. Thanks so much to all of you who have stuck with me, and for those who are new a very warm welcome!

“Look Clark, the city looks so tiny!”

Clark was holding onto Dick as tightly as he could without hurting the boy. Dick had repeatedly insisted that he won’t fall off, but for the second Clark relaxed his hold, Dick reached out and Clark could’ve _sworn_ Dick would’ve lost his balance and plummet down to his doom. He didn’t though. Of course he didn’t.

“Really, Clark, I won’t fall off of you.” Clark just held him in place before he could do anything crazy again. “Are we almost there?”

“Nearly.”

“Why is it taking so long?”

“Well, I could go faster, but your human body wouldn’t be able to cope-”

“Oh!” Dick interrupted him, bouncing excitedly, “Can you hear anything from Smallville?”

“Hmmm.” Clark focused, “I could hear horses and cattle. Lots of them. And a couple of roosters.”

Dick’s eyes shone. “Can you hear your dog?”

Clark ignored the fact that he didn’t remember ever telling the boy that he had a dog, “I can hear _a_ dog, but I can’t be sure if it’s _my_ dog.”

They were significantly closer to home now, and he could almost discern ma’s voice. She was talking to someone.

“I can hear ma. Huh, I think we have company.”

“Your mother? What’s she doing? Is she feeding the turkeys? Is she milking the cows?”

“Uh, no. She’s talking to somebody in the house. We’ll be there in a second.”

Clark landed behind the farmhouse where they were hidden from view. Dick wriggled out of his hold even before his feet completely touched the ground.

“Right.” Clark adjusted the glasses he had put back on, “So this is our farmland.”

Dick was looking around him wide-eyed at the undisturbed acres and acres of land ahead of him. “It’s winter now so the fields are empty I’m afraid. ”

“Yeah. It’s so… empty. If I wanted to I can imagine that your farmhouse was the only thing in the entire world.” Dick paused, then said, “You can run on for miles and miles.”

Clark nodded in silence, having done that in actuality more times than he could hope to count. They stood like that for a few quiet moments.

“Would you… like to go inside?” Clark suggested.

“Yea,” Dick said, grinning happily.

* * *

 

“Ma! It’s me! I brought somebody with me.”

His ma opened the back door, “Clark! I didn’t know you’d be coming home today. How are you, baby?”

“Good, ma. I brought a… friend. He wanted to see our farm.”

“Oh, did he now?”

“Yes, ma. Dick, this is my mother.”

“Hi, Clark’s-mom, I’m Dick. Nice to meet you.”

“Hello, Dick. Well, aren’t you quite young to be Clark’s friend? Make yourself at home, sweetie.”

“Thanks Clark’s-mom.”

Ma led them inside, while Dick studied the pictures nailed on the walls and the furniture they passed. Clark was half-worried at how quiet Dick was, but Clark was becoming increasingly more aware of their guest sitting in the living room. Clark could hear the rapid and smooth ticking of a very expensive quartz wrist watch, and he could smell the rich, spicy fragrance of designer perfume wafting through the air.

“Ma?”

"Yes, Clark?”

“Uhm… Do we have company?”

“Oh dear, I completely forgot to tell you, I really am quite an old lady now.”

“No, you’re not.” Dick interrupted, “I knew a lady from the circus who was 150 years old. That’s what I call an old lady, you’re nowhere near 150 years old.”

Ma laughed a little before she said, “Thank you, Dick, that’s very kind of you.”

“Right. So ma, who is this guest?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, as a matter of fact, he said he’s a friend of yours, sweetheart. Although I don’t recognize him, must be one of your friends from the city.”

“He did? Did he tell you his name?”

“Yes, I think it was something like-” They stepped into the living room, and-

 _Oh no_.

“-Bruce Wayne.”


	14. Clark and His Turkeys

Before Clark’s mind fully processed that _Bruce Wayne_ was sitting in his living room in _Smallville_ , Dick was already bounding towards him. A mixture of fondness and delight and… Dick was _blushing_. Or maybe it was just that his naturally rosy cheeks colored easily with the slightest hint of excitement. Or maybe it was the chilly winter breeze.

“Bruce!” The boy climbed into the man’s lap and promptly wrapped himself around him.

“You’re here!” Dick mumbled into Bruce’s suit and Clark could hear how fast Dick’s heart was beating, “Why did you come?”

Not how or when. _Why._

“I was going to have a word with Clark,” Bruce gently extricated himself from Dick’s hold and sat the boy down on the couch, “stay here, Dick.” Dick was looking at Wayne with wide, trusting eyes. And to everyone’s surprise, he did as he was told. He sat there and stayed, _quietly_.

“Clark, we need to talk.”

“Y- yes! Of course, but-”

“Excuse us, Mrs. Kent.” Bruce smiled pleasantly at ma.

“Of course, young man. Take your time. We’ll be here.”

* * *

 

“Clark,” And oh lord, it was surreal to hear _that_ voice coming from _Bruce Wayne_ in _broad daylight_. “I thought you’d have at least some common sense in your simple mind.”

Clark felt as if the cold, hard ice in Bruce’s glare was cutting through his soul.   

“Do you realize what you have potentially done by coming to Gotham last night?”

“Yes,” Clark finally managed to say, “I do, and you don’t know how terrible I feel about the people in that build-”

“That’s _not_ what I’m talking about.”

“Wha-”

“The Joker _saw_ you last night. There are very good reasons why I stringently prohibit the League from interfering with Gotham’s crimes, and the Joker is one of those reasons.”

“I don’t… understand.”

“The Joker is _insane_. He’s not like your Lex Luthor or Darkseid, he’s a madman and he’s obsessed with the Batman. How do you think the Joker will react when he happens to see Superman with Batman and it occurs in his deranged mind to target Metropolis too, just because?”

“Oh.” Clark breathed.

“We don’t _know_ what he’ll do. But I do understand him just enough to know that the reaction you got out of him last night could not mean anything good.”

“Dear lord, I never thought…”

“Then maybe you should think before you do anything stupid. Keep out of Gotham, Clark.”

Clark opened his mouth to say something more, but Wayne had already turned away from him and was now walking back in long strides toward the house. For moments, Clark stared at the back of Wayne’s immaculate black hair. There was _so_ much he wanted to tell and ask him. But Clark was no longer sure how he should feel about this man despite how Batman still was a trusted team member in the League. In fact, Clark probably trusted him more than anyone else.  

Clark swallowed, “Uh- Mr. Wayne, hold on.” He almost immediately regretted this decision. “I need to tell you something too.”

Wayne turned around and was now silently considering Clark with those _inhuman_ blue eyes of his (and the deeply disconcerting perfection of his looks).

“Uh… Dick came to Metropolis a few days back. Did you know this?” Clark’s mind was a mess, he had no idea _what_ he was trying to find out or what in heaven’s name he was trying to do.

“Exactly three days ago. I am aware of this, I also know about the listening devices. What’s your point?”

“What- you _knew_? Then…” Clark frowned, “Do you know what they were for? Why Dick went to Metropolis?”

“Clark, get to the point. I have no time for this.”

Clark steeled himself, “I went to your Manor to see Dick before I came to the city. He told me he bugged me because he was… _afraid_. Of _you_. Of the insane things you _make_ him do with you. Do you realize that he is a child? Or you have you forgotten what being a child is like?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“Yes it is,” Clark had decided that his cause was justified, and he decidedly felt more confident with the thought that he was doing the right thing, “I don’t know why you do what you do, and you’re right that it is none of my business. But does Dick have to know of it? Be part of it even. Why do you drag him to the streets with you every night? Only to leave him to fester alone and scared in that mansion for the rest of the day. Why-” Clark paused, imagining what Lois would say, “Why, Bruce Wayne, did you become Dick’s guardian?”

There was a deep, reverberating silence following Clark’s outburst. But Clark held his ground and tried with his every might to hold Wayne’s gaze.

Finally, Wayne shifted and turned away from Clark, “I thought it best.”

This time Clark had no will left to stop the man. Wayne calmly walked back, as composed as ever. Clark could hear Wayne’s heart beating steadily in slow, deep pulses, and his breathing had not changed in the slightest throughout their entire conversation.

 _This man is not entirely human_ , Clark thought. And Clark was a downright _alien_.

But if Clark had been any more observant, he would also have noticed the uncharacteristic disquiet that settled in Bruce Wayne’s immaculate blue eyes as he was met by Dick’s joyous voice from inside the house. 

* * *

 

For reasons Clark couldn’t quite explain, there was a stiff-mustached man in an impeccably stylish suit waiting at the front of their farmhouse. Then there is the absolute mystery as to the huge black Rolls-Royce the man was standing next to, and the odd W-shaped crest attached to its hood.

The tuxedo-man raised an eyebrow as Clark stared at him through a window, then the man cleared his throat and averted his eyes politely.

“How did Alfred get here?” He heard Dick from somewhere inside the house.         

“He came with me.” That was Bruce, who had just been talking to ma about (surprisingly) how lovely the winter weather was.

“Oh. Can I stay here, Bruce?”

“Why? Do you want to?” There was genuine interest in Bruce’s voice. Clark stayed where he was and pretended to be busy reading an article in yesterday’s newspaper which he wrote himself.

“Yes. I like it here,” Dick’s voice came in a gentle, soft cadence. And maybe it was because Clark’s nerves were wracked, but he thought he heard a certain tentativeness in Dick’s voice. At any rate, he was more subdued than he usually was, “And I would like to see Clark’s turkeys.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to see turkeys.”

“I’ve never seen one before. And I heard they had very pretty tails.”

There was silence for a beat.

“So can I stay with Clark?”

Another beat passed.

“Bruce?”

“You have school tomorrow. If you still want to, you can visit Smallville again next weekend.”

Clark had expected Dick to protest, but instead Clark could almost _hear_ the smile in Dick’s voice.

“Thanks Bruce.”

* * *

 

“Bye, Clark.” Dick waved at him from inside the car.

“Uh- Bye. See you soon.”

And they left. Clark listened to the hum of the car as it disappeared along the empty road. If he strained, he could still hear the sound of the car’s tires crunching on asphalt, the smooth hum of a top-grade engine, and-

“Are we going home?” And he could, of course, hear them talk inside.

“Yes. It’s an hour flight, so you might want to catch up on lost sleep.”

A small gasp, “So you knew?”

“I do. I could see your silhouette on my ceiling.”

“Then- Why didn’t you say anything?”

A heartbeat passed, and another one, “Because I thought you did a good job.”

“Do you really think I did?”

“Yes.”

There was silence again for a moment.

“But Bruce, are- are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about me, Dick. I’m fine.”

“Really? But you were covered in blood and-”

“Dick.” Clark heard the soft whisper of a hand touching a soft cheek. “Don’t worry.”

“Just promise you won’t leave me, okay?”

Something must have happened in the car which Clark couldn’t hear, because the next thing Clark heard was the sound of Dick climbing onto Bruce’s lap and hugging him.

And after that there was nothing but silence and the sound of the car.

* * *

 

Some time later, Clark was sitting with ma on their porch.

“I’m glad you have such nice friends, Clark. Bruce seems to be such a sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, ma. He’s very nice.”

“Do you remember, sweetie, when you were just a small tyke, you had _such_ trouble with the neighbor kids,” Ma laughed kindly, “It makes a mother happy to know her son’s doing so well now that he’s grown up. It’s not easy---”

Clark was distracted by the powerful rumble of a plane moving at top velocity through the air. Clark could discern that it was mostly empty. In fact, it was _completely_ empty safe for exactly three passengers and the pilot. A private jet, then. The turbines were terribly loud, but if Clark focused, he could still separate individual voices from the racket.

“Can I visit this Friday?”

“Saturday, Master Dick,” That must have been the voice of the tuxedo-man he saw earlier. Alfred, wasn’t it? “Do not forget Master Bruce and yourself have a convention with Mayor Hill this Friday evening.”

“Oh poopy, they’re boring.”

“Language, young sir.”

“Sorry, Alfred.”

“I didn’t know you liked turkeys that much.”

“It’s not just the turkeys, Bruce. Clark’s got an entire farm. Did you see the huge barn he had? He also had a chicken shed and-”

“I could get you turkeys and chickens if you want to.”

Clark couldn’t help being surprised at the tone of Wayne’s voice. For just a moment, ever so subtly, there was an edge of desperation.

Apparently, Wayne was surprised at the tone of his own voice too, because he quickly added, “But only if you promise you’d look after them.”

A moment passed, there was the rustling of paper as someone turned the page of a book.

“Bruce… It’s not- it’s not like that.”

“Not like what, Dick?” And Wayne sounded so casually confused Clark was tempted to believe that the tension wasn’t there at all. But the truth was that Clark could _feel_ the suffocating tension in that cabin even from where he was sitting in his childhood farmland.

“I don’t know. I just was… you know- bit bored and thought it would be nice to… see something different.”

A sigh, “I know Dick. The manor must be awfully quiet compared to what you’re used to. If you think you’d like it I could enroll you into some of the school’s extracurricular clubs, that might keep you busy.”

“I’d like that, thanks Bruce.” Dick paused for a second, “But I mean, you don’t have to buy me things to make me like you. I- I like you just as you are.”

The silence that followed felt like a taut glass surface, on the verge of breaking and shattering into sharp painful fragments.

“You’re like… like my favorite person in the worl-”

“Clark!” Ma was scowling at him.

“Huh. What. Uh- Yes ma?”

“I know that look on your face Clark, don’t you think you can fool me. Look at you, acting like you’re ten again. I’ve told you a hundred times before that eavesdropping is rude.”

“Sorry, ma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter! Thanks to all of you who have been following this story all this time. Please tell me what you think of it so far, I love to hear your feedback.


	15. Clark on Duty

“Hey, Supes.” The Flash threw himself onto the chair beside Clark.

Clark was in the Watchtower on regular monitor duty. For some reason it was always his luck to be paired off with the Flash. Or perhaps it wasn’t luck after all, the duty roster _couldn’t_ be completely random, could it?

“Did you hear about the Joker yet? He broke out of that mental asylum _again._ ”

“Yes I have.” Clark tried hiding his discomfort by focusing on the satellite readings in front of him, “that’s terrible for Gotham, but Batman should be working on it as we speak.”

Sometimes when Clark’s not being Clark Kent, he misses his glasses. They do have their merits, especially when Clark’s trying not to show the world his face is getting hot.

“Can you believe these guys?” The Flash made an exasperated sigh, “Just how many times does the Joker have to get away until they _finally_ think of a better way to keep him locked up.”

Clark was going to say something like _maybe it’s already the best they’ve got_ , but he was interrupted by a notification on the monitor.

“There’s something going on in Star City.”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, that _is_ strange. Isn’t that a distress signal in our commlink’s signature wavelength?”

“No. But it’s _very_ similar. It’s definitely some sort of communicator.”

“Green Arrow?” The Flash frowned, “But he was in the Watchtower not more than 30 minutes ago. I saw him in the gym”

“I’ll call him.” Clark made his way to the intercom, “Come in, is anybody there? This is Superman.” Clark waited a heartbeat, “Green Arrow?”

“Green Arrow here. Is there a problem Superman?”

“We picked up some… strange radio activity in Star City. Apparently it’s some sort of communicator, but it isn’t any of the League’s.”

“I’ll be up in a second. Green Arrow out.”

* * *

 

“That’s definitely not my _or_ Speedy’s doing.” Green Arrow was leaning across the console, one hand idly scratching his beard. “Did you try comparing the signal to what we have on our databanks?”

“You bet,” The Flash’s hands were zooming over a keyboard, “Nothing there.” He shrugged.

“The source isn’t moving though.” Green Arrow said, “I’ll try and get one of our satellites to pinpoint the location.”

“It might be easier if I fly over Star City and see where it’s coming from,” Clark suggested, “Somebody could be in danger.”

The Flash grinned, “Always the boy scout. If you go, I’ll come too. I can do with a run, been feeling bit stiff lately.”

Green Arrow nodded, “I’ll stay here and call for backup if needed. You two go.”

* * *

 

“Follow me, it’s coming from the West.” Clark could hear the signal quite clearly now.

The Flash ran ahead of him, detector in hand. Unlike Clark he could only ‘hear the peace and quiet us regular folks hear’ as his pa used to put it.

“Flash? Can you pinpoint the loca-?”

The Flash apparently already did because- “I found it!”

“That’s odd,” Clark found the Flash in the basement of a run-down building in the West end of Star City, “The signal seems to be coming from this building.”

Clark scanned the building, “Be careful. There are people in this building.”

“In this hell hole? If something happens they can’t exactly blame us. This building’s about to fall apart-”

“ _Shh!_ ” Clark held out a hand. There was the sound of a heartbeat and breathing coming from just above the ceiling. “Somebody’s hiding between the floors.”

“There’s an airshaft there, must’ve gone through it.”

“Wait- they’re moving.”

“Do they know we’re her-”

_"Freeze!”_

The next thing the Flash saw was the scorching point of something very hot held in between his eyes, “What are you doing in Star City?”

“Speedy. Calm down.” Clark stepped in between the Flash and Speedy, holding out his hand in a sign of peace. “We just picked up some strange distress signal here. We’d assumed Green Arrow would’ve told you we were coming.”

Speedy lowered his arrow and narrowed his eyes, “Do you know what this signal is then?”

“We thought you’d have a better idea of what it might be.”

“It’s done a very good job mimicking the League’s signature. If it weren’t for some new equipment we got from-”, Speedy shook his head, “if it weren’t for the equipment we just got we would’ve thought it was simply the League’s.”

That’s funny, because Clark knew for a fact the only reason why the Watchtower picked up the difference was because of technology given to them as a very gracious donation from WayneTech.

Huh.

“Well then,” The Flash butted in, “let’s all stop chatting and find it.”

Speedy looked like he was going to protest, but the Flash ran off as soon as he said that. And less than a second later-

“It’s over here!”

The Flash was outside, standing on a ledge a few floors above ground.

"The signal’s coming from inside the walls. There’s one right in here.”

Clark could see it, it was a rectangular device embedded in, “Hold on,” Clark flew over and, trying not to cause too much damage, dug the thing out.

“What is it?” Speedy joined them on the ledge.

“It’s nothing. It just emits a signal.”

“It’s a radio.” 

“What’s the point of that?” The Flash turned the thing over.

And suddenly, the signal stopped and-

_'Hellooooooo. If it isn’t my favourite costume party.’_

Clark felt his heart turn to ice. That voice. He’d never forget it.

“Joker!?”

But that was _impossible_. Joker had _never_ ventured out of Gotham. _Ever._ And this was Star City, _Green Arrow_ ’s city. The Joker had never ever _ever_ been mildly interested in anything but, well, _Batman._

_Oh, you remember! You flatter me!’_

“Joker, what do you want.”

_'Now, now. Can’t gentlemen have a nice chat these days. I blame television entirely. Always making everybody so impatient.’_

“What’s the meaning of this signal.”

_Signal? Oh, the distress signal. Well how else was I meant to gather this merry party here.’_

“What are you talking about, Joker.”

Not very far off, somewhere in Star City, Clark heard the tell-tale clicking of explosives.

“To distract us. Flash! Come with me, we have to hurry.”

“Huh?” Speedy turned in confusion, but they were already gone.


End file.
